


Just Empty, Black Sockets

by KisaraMoriarty777



Series: Creepypasta Fanfictions [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Cannibalism, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisaraMoriarty777/pseuds/KisaraMoriarty777
Summary: “Fear the room, all pitch black. Fear the path which you can never go back. Fear a life that cannot last. Fear the boy with a horrid past. Fear the boy in the dark navy mask. Fear the boy in the blue hoodie with pockets. Fear the boy with just empty, black sockets,” a choir of childish voices sang.When Emily began her day, the last thing she expected was to have to spend her day trying to escape from a killer's horror house. But when her life turns into a living nightmare, Emily must do everything in her power to escape with her life. And her sanity.
Relationships: Eyeless Jack/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Creepypasta Fanfictions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658968
Kudos: 3





	Just Empty, Black Sockets

_“Fear the room, all pitch black. Fear the path which you can never go back. Fear a life that cannot last. Fear the boy with a horrid past. Fear the boy in the dark navy mask. Fear the boy in the blue hoodie with pockets. Fear the boy with just empty, black sockets,” a choir of childish voices sang._

I awoke suddenly, gasping for air. “Hello! Is anyone there?!” I called out. I was not sure why I did this. I sighed. I had been having horrid nightmares lately, the type that causes you to scream like a banshee. I was not sure why, but I knew the childish voice singing must have been in my nightmares.

“ _Honestly, just one night free of nightmares, that is all I ask,_ ” I thought to myself. I went to sit up, to look around my brightly colored room, one of which always smelled like vanilla, only to get a horrid surprise.

I could not see anything. The room I was in was pitch black. I could hear a distant humming, one that sounded like that of another person.

“Hello! Hello!” I yelled out, only to hear my screams echoing off the walls. The walls sounded like they must be made of some manner of metal, for my voice carried perfectly off the walls. I began to step off my bed, only to jump right back on it.

The floor was burning hot. It felt as though the ground itself was made of fire. I could smell the burning of my flesh, and it made me nearly throw up. I checked my foot but noticed that there was no damage. It was then I realized that I could see. I realized that someone must have turned on a light, for there was no way my eyes could have adjusted to the light that easily. I gasped in horror as I stared at the room I was in.

There were chains. Everywhere. Some lied scattered on the ground, while others were attached to the pitch-black walls. Yes, the walls were colored in the darkest shade of black I had ever seen. I saw a few crimson red stains that seemed like they had been dripping down the black walls at one point, but I did not wish to know what the stains were from. I checked the floor. It was covered with a greyish-green carpet, that has the same, almost matching red stains on it. I hesitantly stepped off the bed once more, however this time the floor no longer burned. I saw a mirror gleaming on the wall that held the door, and I raced over there, gliding over the floor as if I was a skater on ice. I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was dressed in a golden, sparkling dress that looked as though it belonged on a Hollywood actress. My normal messy brown hair was tied neatly in a bun atop my head. My lips were covered with a dark crimson lipstick that was perfectly placed. I was wearing matching gold shoes that had three-inch heels at least. I looked at my reflection, a terrified expression clear on my face. I never dressed like this. I was not the kind of woman that enjoyed wearing fancy-looking clothes. Ripped jeans and thrift clothes were my style; so, how did I get like this? Who had done this?

I shook my head. This was no time to focus on my looks. I had to get out of here. I looked around the room again. There were no windows, and other than the one door, no other means of escape. I made my way to the door, the door handle beckoning me to turn it, gleaming bright gold, clashing with the dark black of the door. I touched it, and I did not even care that the handle was cold as ice, or that it felt as slimy as a snake. No. It was freedom.

That hope, however, was short-lived, for I stopped myself from opening the door when I heard an ear-piercing scream.

“ **AH!** H… help! Someone! Ah! SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!” I heard a voice plead. It was so loud that I was tempted to cover my ears, however, I was frozen, like a scared deer in the blinding headlights of a car. My legs felt as though they could give way at any moment. I then smelt something that made my stomach turn. It was a strong, metallic smell, followed by a rank, pungent smell. It smelt like something had been forgotten, and had rotten away. Possibly rotten eggs? It also smelt like a bag full of rotten food had been left in the sweltering summer heat for months. It smelt like something… no. Oh no. No. No. No.

It smelt like something died. I gagged, tasting the contents of my lunch coming up into my mouth, and I quickly swallowed it back down. However, I was unable to keep these contents down. I accidentally took another breath, using my nose to breathe, and threw up all over the carpet. My lunch, or what had been my lunch, seeped into the spaces between the fragments of the carpet, painting the carpet a new, brownish color. Upon seeing this, I could taste the bitter bile coming up my throat, stinging it. For about three minutes, I threw up all the food contents of my stomach and quite the amount of yellowish bile. My stomach burned, my throat throbbed, and my legs felt like jelly. I could not see, for my eyes burned, and my head felt light.

“ _It is just your imagination. No one… died. Right?”_ I thought to myself. Then who had screamed? Who had pleaded so loudly for help? Why had their screaming stopped, and why did this horrid stench fill the air afterward? I shook my head. I needed to get out of here, alive.

After taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I raced back over to the doorknob and opened the door. I stared down the extremely long hallway that had walls as white as angel wings, no windows, and three doors at the end. The carpet outside of my “room” was covered with plastic wrap that made a squeaking sound as I walked across it. I stared at the ceiling, curious to see if there were vents or something, and screamed. The ceiling was clear, and I could see through to the floor above. What I saw horrified me.

Bodies. Bodies littered the glass ceiling above me. Some lay facing away from me, their backs fully clothed, but covered with a dark crimson, sticky liquid I knew could only be blood. Some of the blood had crystalized, however some looked as though it would drip onto me should the glass somehow crack. What was the most horrific, though, was that some of the bodies stared right into me, their eyes drilling into my soul, burning a hole right through me. Their faces showed an expression that can only be explained as one of pure horror. Some, though, could not stare at me, for their eyes were noticeably missing. A dark black liquid filled the hole in which their eyes were supposed to be. The ones that had their mouths open noticeably had no tongues, with the same black, gooey liquid oozing out of their mouths. I gagged again, prying my eyes away from the horrific sight above me. I then dragged myself to the end of the hallway, desperately searching for any means of a weapon, however I sighed as I found none.

“AH! AH! AH! STOP! AH! AH!” came a scream from above me. I looked above me and saw what appeared to be a young woman being dragged by a boy. The boy looked about sixteen. Possibly seventeen which was my age. The girl looked like she was my age as well. She was bleeding and her chest was cut open, blood pouring out of her wound like a water fountain. Her arms were missing, as were her legs. She was thrashing around like an animal in a cage, attempting to get away from the boy who was now hoisting her onto a chair that lied in the center of one of the rooms above. He chucked her on the chair, and I heard a loud thump as her body, or what was left of it, hit the metal chair. She let out another ear-piercing scream as her body collided with the chair.

“ _Oh my god! I need to get out of here!_ ” my mind yelled at me. I needed to move. To race to one of the three doors at the end of the hallway. However, my legs still felt as if they would shatter into a million pieces, should I move even the slightest bit. I could not pry my eyes off the scene that was unfolding above me. The girl’s chest was heaving, rising and falling at scary speeds. Her eyes were wide open and looked as though they were going to pop right out of her sockets. Shiny, sparkling tears filled her large, blue eyes. I saw that the boy was now on the other side of the room above and that he was grabbing some sort of object from a tray, or table. I gasped as I saw what it was. In his hand lied a sharp, shining scalpel. The girl screamed again upon seeing the object in the boy’s hand, and I held back a scream. I watched in pure horror as the boy walked towards the girl, scalpel in hand. I could not see his face, for it was covered by a dark blue mask. Navy blue, just like the one from the song in my dreams! The boy got close to the girl, whispered something to the girl that made her body tremble even more, and then plunged the scalpel deep into her chest. The scalpel easily cut through the girl’s flesh, burrowing itself in her chest, and ripped away fabric particles of her golden dress. Golden dress. Like the one I had on! What kind of place was this? What kind of monster was I trapped with? My mind was quickly snapped out of my current train of thought when I saw the boy plunge his face into the girl’s stomach, biting it open. I screamed. Big mistake. The boy stared down at me through the thick glass that lied between us. He shook his head at me, smirking through the mask. I ran, fear kicking in, and raced to the doors at the end of the hallway. I twisted the red doorknob on the first door, the handle cold, and unmoving as if it were taunting me. I heard laughter. Wicked laughter like that of a hyena. I tried the second door, which had a yellow handle, but it was also cold and unmoving. I then heard sobbing and screams. I raced to the third door, the one with a blue handle. It made a clicking sound, and I smiled. I pushed the door open but fell backward as I saw the boy from upstairs staring down at me.

“Why hello there. I honestly thought you would cooperate a little more, but I guess I was wrong. Oh well. Too bad for you,” he said to me, and with that, he brought a large, metal stick down on my head.

I awoke in a cold room, unable to see anything. The room smelled sweet, like perfume. Vanilla perfume. My perfume. I could hear a fan running, and water running from somewhere else in the room. I attempted to move my arms and legs, only to find that I was strapped down. I thrashed my head left and right, struggling against my restraints.

“Sh. Sh. That’s quite enough of that. You won’t be breaking those ropes any time soon, so why not just relax for now,” a soft, almost sweet voice cooed to me.

“Who are you? Where am I?!” I screamed at the person. Suddenly, I felt two hands grab my head, and I thrashed around more. Suddenly, I was greeted by a blinding light, like the light that a doctor’s table had on it. I took no time looking around my new room. It looked very much like an operating room, with many operating tables scattered around the messy room, and various different medical photos littering the white walls. I stared at my restraints and realized I was on a medical gurney, with brown straps restraining my limbs. I then heard a dark chuckle, and look at my captor.

I was right. He did look around sixteen, maybe seventeen. Up close though, he looked much more like a monster than a human boy. He had on a blue hoodie, though the sleeves were covered with crimson, sticky blood that dripped off the end, making a dripping sound like that of a leaking tap as it hits the floor. He wore regular grey jeans, but again, those were covered with blood. The most horrific part about him, though, was the mask. It had no holes, other than the ones for the eyes, and it was completely navy blue. Unlike the rest of his clothes, the mask was clean of blood. However, a dark, gooey, inky-looking liquid seeped out of the sockets where his eyes should have been. I peered through the mask, attempting to see the boy’s eyes, only to be greeted by more of that odd liquid. The boy saw me staring, and let out another chuckle.

“Curious, aren’t we?” he asked me. His voice, unlike his demeanor, was sweet and flowed like honey.

“ _How could he see me staring? He has no eyes!”_ my mind yelled at me, however I had more pressing issues to worry about. I opened my mouth, struggling to find the words I wished to say. After about a minute, I spoke.

“W… what do you want from me?” I asked. He chuckled again, and I noticed that his breath smelt like rotten flesh. I gagged.

“Why, I thought you would have figured that out while you were exploring? I suppose not then. You see, I ran out of… food,” he said, and my body froze. Food?

“F… food?” I asked, my voice trembling. The boy nodded, and lifted the mask a little, exposing his mouth, and the rows of sharp, razor-like teeth. I gasped and struggled more. He placed a cold hand on my neck, and it was then I noticed his nails were like claws. They dug into my flesh as I moved, and I quickly stopped moving.

“Yes, food. You see, I eat organs. I do prefer kidneys; however, any other organs will do. Lungs are nice. Juicy too. They tend to squirt blood quite a bit though, so I tend to stay away from those if I am doing something else that day. I like livers, too. They taste quite nice. Intestines are a little bitter, and they can have an odd smell to them, but they taste good in soups. A little bit of salt, and some paprika, and all the weird smells and flavors go away,” the boy explained to me, and I stared at him, my eyes wide with horror, and filling with terror. My chest felt heavy, and I could hardly breathe. I was shocked I had not passed out yet.

“L… let me go. Please,” I begged him, fear filling my voice. The boy laughed, and it sounded like a real laugh. The kind some little kid would make after seeing a funny face.

“Aw. That’s cute, but I hear that all the time. Seriously, if your voice did not sound so scared when you said that, I may have made this so much more painful. You probably do not realize how annoying that line gets, but you made it sound so cute!” he exclaimed, sounding like a child on Christmas day, or even like a proud parent. He then reached into a pocket in his blue hoodie and pulled out the same scalpel I had seen him using upstairs. I froze again. I could not even scream.

“N… no. D… don’t. P… please. P… please don’t hurt me! Please!” I begged after a few moments of silence, and the boy laughed again. He placed the cold metal scalpel on my cheek and made a cut on it. I screamed out. The pain was sharp, and the cut stung. He then placed the scalpel on my stomach, and chuckled to himself, before plunging the scalpel into my stomach, ripping into it as though it contained a prize. Knowing how this boy thought, it probably did. I screamed as the metal hit my veins, blood spewing out of the wound. I watched in horror as my dress was dyed a crimson red, and stared as the boy placed a hand inside my wound, and ripped out my gallbladder. He smiled at me and bit into it, blood squirting out at me. It smelt horrible, and the stench filled the room.

“Ah, not bad. It’s not as good as some of the other gallbladders I have had, but whatever,” he mumbled as he shoved his face full of my gallbladder. I gagged, and he smiled. “Want some?” he asked me, and he pulled out my liver, shoving it inside my mouth. It tasted like meat, but it was covered in blood, and the mixture of the meaty taste with the metallic taste was too much. I spat it out and coughed. The boy gave me a confused look, shrugged, and feasted on my liver next. He took his time, biting into it as though it were a piece of turkey or chicken, ripping it apart with his teeth. I could feel myself falling unconscious, but then felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my neck.

“Ah!” I screamed as I felt every remaining vein in my body burn.

“I could not have you falling asleep yet, now could I?” the boy asked as he plunged the scalpel back inside me, cutting away part of my intestine. He pulled out the part he had cut and dangled it in front of me. I gagged, smelling the blood and flesh. Parts of it dripped on my face. I could still hear the dripping in the distance and thought it may be someone in another room running a tap.

“Help me! Someone one! Help! Please!” I yelled out, my voice echoing off the walls in this room as well. I guessed that this room must have been made of the same material as the room I first woke up in. I felt another stabbing pain in my chest and screamed out in pain.

“There is no one else here, darling. Just you and me, and the other bodies. You heard them, right? Warning you. Some laughing, some crying, and begging. You heard them. Of course, you did. Everyone does. I made it that way. You hear horrid things, just like I did when I died. You hear the voices warning you, but you don’t listen. You move anyways, but you were dead either way, right? And then it happens. You feel the scalpel cut into you. You feel yourself bleed out all over. You see the face of the person doing it, and you beg them to stop, and you cannot figure out why they are doing this, because you did not do anything wrong. You always tried to be the best, but you bleed out anyway. And then you died, but you somehow came back. You came back, but you were a monster, right? I mean, who wants to care for a kid that eats human organs and has no eyes, right? No one. I mean, you would not know that, and you will not know what it feels like, because you will die, but it hurts, okay. I may be a monster, but someone made me like this, okay?” he whispered to me. I did not know what to do. His eyeless face, covered by a navy-blue mask somehow held an unimaginable sadness that made me feel as though he were the one being hurt by me, not the other way around.

“I… I am sorry someone hurt you, but killing people is not right!” I yelled at him, and he sighed, putting down the scalpel.

“I know, but still, I need to eat,” he told me.

“W… wait! You do… don’t have to kill me!” I screamed in fear. The boy shrugged.

“Well, I kind of do. Sorry darling, I would really love to let you go, however I do need a meal. You do not have to worry though, I swear this will all be over soon,” he whispered into my ear. His breath smelt worse now, and I held back the temptation to throw up more of my bile. He held the scalpel, the light gleaming off it, the metal sparkling in the light. I bit my lip, tasting my own metallic blood seeping into my mouth. I felt my head begin to feel light again, and the room looked as if it were spinning.

“Please! Stop! Let me go! Please!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“I am sorry, darling. You seemed so nice. You may have even understood me,” the boy said, and his voice sounded so sad, like a scared child that had finally met someone that could understand them. A thought hit me, and even though I knew there was no chance that I could live through this, at least this would stall him. I stared up into the dark, goo filled sockets in which the boy’s eyes should have been. Would he have had blue eyes that were the color of the ocean? Would his eyes be yellow like the sun? Would they have been as green as freshly cut grass? Were they brown eyes that reflected clear tears when they filled the sockets? Like mine?

“What is your name?” I asked loudly. The boy stared at me, confused, then chuckled.

“Jack, but most call me Eyeless Jack,” he told me. “Now, as one of my good friends would say, it’s time to go to sleep,” he said, and with that, he plunged the scalpel into my throat. The pain was sharp, and my throat burned. I felt the hot, sticky blood cover my chest and neck. I managed to look down a little bit, and saw the blood gushing out like a waterfall. It poured down on my golden dress, covering the gleaming jewels on the dress with a sticky red coat of fresh blood. I saw Eyeless Jack licking his lips, an animalistic hunger written all over his face. Somehow, despite a lack of eyes, he managed to have a predatory look in his empty sockets. I felt myself slipping into the unconsciousness I knew I would never awake from. I took in a desperate set of breaths, smelling all the rotten flesh, blood, and internal organs that were now all over the room. I could taste it in the air, too. That mixture of old garbage and metal. If I was not dying, I was sure I would be getting sick once more. I could hear the dripping of the tap, and singing? Yes. Eyeless Jack was singing. It was a soft, beautiful song, like someone would sing to someone they loved.

“W… what?” I gurgled out. No one could hear it, but I was trying to ask what the song was. The last one I would ever hear.

“I see your monster. I see your pain. Tell me your problems. I’ll chase them away,” he sang in a sugary-sweet voice, and those were the last words I ever heard. Listening to my killer sing, I drifted into a state that can only be called death.

_“Fear the room, all pitch black. Fear the path which you can never go back. Fear a life that cannot last. Fear the boy with a horrid past. Fear the boy in the dark navy mask. Fear the boy in the blue hoodie with pockets. Fear the boy with just empty, black socket.”_


End file.
